Sometimes there just weren’t any good choices, only bad, worse or catastrophic, but that didn’t make such decisions easier to make or to live with.
He reminded himself she wasn’t really a child anymore, had ceased to be that when she was chosen. Not entirely human, no longer suited to this world. She wanted to go with them, where she belonged, where she fit.
But she still looked like a child; she had a mother who would grieve her loss.
In the end it wasn’t even a choice. Let this one go, or let the entire world suffer the consequences.